After
by cheride
Summary: Sometimes memories are all that's left. Deals with permanent character death.


_After- cheride_

_Rating: G_

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The characters and concepts of Hardcastle & McCormick do not belong to me, but to their creators._

_**A/N:** Deals with permanent character death._

* * *

The lone figure stood on the sand, looking out over the ocean. This was always a good place to be alone; a good place to think. A good place to remember.

Hadn't they spent countless afternoons on this beach with a cooler of sandwiches and beer between them, nothing on the agenda but spirited conversations about life and the law? Just a few yards up the shore hadn't they helped defeat Nazis, for pete's sake? And, hadn't they stood in that very spot over by the shore and skipped rocks like father and son?

Yes, there were a lot of memories here, though they were but a fraction of the whole. He thought he could stand here until the waves stopped coming ashore and still not have time to recall all of the precious moments from the last six years.

He wished now that he had been more grateful then.

When he had awakened that morning four weeks ago, it had never occurred to him how quickly everything could change; how quickly everything that mattered could be taken away. In truth, there was no reason for that lack of awareness; either one of them could've faced this situation a hundred times over the course of their relationship. And besides, hadn't it been an unexpected loss of life that had brought them together in the first place? After all, if Flip Johnson had never died....

The man shook his head slightly, as if to clear his thoughts. He'd done a lot of that kind of thinking lately, trying to understand the intricate stitching that made up the tapestry of life. And death.

A month ago life had been full of opportunity and promise. There had been a future worth looking forward to and someone to share it with. Now it was all gone. Now he was alone, clinging to memories, because happiness lived only in the past. If only he could find a way to leave behind the memories of these last four weeks.

Completely unbidden—completely unwanted—his mind conjured up the moments he wanted most to forget. The moments he would always remember.

In that disorienting maze of back streets and alleys where they had been running after the latest bad guys, they were both a little on edge. Breathing hard and snapping insults, they had been trying to coordinate their next move. And, rather than seek cover, they'd been standing out in the open like a couple of dopes. But then he felt himself shoved to the ground as his best friend first anticipated—and then intercepted—the bullet that had been fired in their direction. He would never know what had alerted the other man, but suddenly the wrong man was lying bleeding on the ground, already unconscious. Somewhere he found a gun and returned fire, his only thought to protect his friend. Whether or not he got the bad guy he couldn't say.

After a while the gunshots brought the police and then the police brought the ambulance. The next few days were a blur of a lonely hospital vigil. Not that he had truly been alone, of course, but the others knew there was only one person who mattered.

And then, miraculously, that one person had opened his blue eyes. The two of them had talked briefly, exchanging words that didn't say what they truly felt and yet somehow managed to say it anyway. And then his friend had smiled. Of the entire last month, that was the one moment he was glad he remembered.

But then suddenly, horribly, his friend had stopped smiling, stopped talking. Stopped breathing. Stopped.

The doctors had later talked about some kind of embolism, but he couldn't focus on those words. It was a cruel twist of fate that had taken his friend just when hope had returned. Or maybe it was a gift from the angels that had given them that one last moment together. Maybe it was both.

And so, as he had every day for weeks, the lone figure stood on the sand, looking out over the ocean. And in the light twinkling on the waves he saw the smile of a friend. And he remembered.


End file.
